


Second Impressions

by Rho_Jaihtlyn



Series: Picture Perfect [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxious Dipper Pines, Bill is conflicted, Bill may be a little masochistic, Dipper is too cute, Explicit Language, First Date, Human Bill Cipher, I couldn't stop myself, Jealous Bill Cipher, M/M, Mentioned Major Character Death, Not a quick read, Part Two, failed flirting, mentions of sexual intentions/thoughts, this is way too long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rho_Jaihtlyn/pseuds/Rho_Jaihtlyn
Summary: Dipper is responsible for planning a date worthy of his level-10 handsome hair stylist Bill Cipher as payment for his trip to the salon. Bill is pleasantly surprised at Dipper's old-timey clichés.





	

Dipper had changed outfits a total of four times, and would have went for a fifth if Mabel hadn’t forced her way into his room after five minutes of yelling and forceful knocking. She pulled his shaking hands away from the buttons on his flannel, straightened the shirt, and gave him a strong slap on his back. “Stop worrying so much, Bro-Bro! It’s going to be fiiiine,” she drew out the ‘I’ in ‘fine’, “I’m sure he’ll like you no matter what you wear!” The words didn’t do much to console Dipper.

“Mabel, this is the first date I’ve been on in four years, and he expects ME to plan everything!” He ran his hands through his hair for the thousandth time, ruining the gelled style Mabel had suggested earlier that he had spent a good twenty minutes trying to perfect. He would never come close to comparing to the man he had somehow caught the eye of.

Or maybe he didn’t like Dipper at all, and he didn’t text him directions to his house two hours after Dipper had left the salon, but instead planned to lead him somewhere out in the middle of no where so he could kill him. He worried his lip, face paling and heartbeat racing.

It was only just now occurring to Dipper, even after having the past two and a half days to think it over, that he barely knew anything about Bill Cipher — if that was even his real name. He could be a serial killer that used his charm and beauty to lure his victims away before he killed them. He probably had a whole bookshelf hidden somewhere in his house filled with glass jars that held the scraps and fluids of his prey. Dipper suddenly felt sick.

“HEY,” Mabel snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?” The male twin hummed, swallowing his fear.

“What? Yeah, yeah, Mabes, I’m uh, I’m listening.” His eyes were unfocused. It worried the elder twin. She hadn’t seen Dipper so panicked since his sophomore year in high school, when he forgot about a five page paper he needed to write for homework over one weekend and as consequence was given after school detention in order to finish it. He didn’t do well with authority figures.

Mabel studied his face, mouth turned down and hands on her hips. Then, she left. She turned her back to Dipper, and walked right out the door. He blinked. Where was she going? He was having a _crisis here_!

He heard one of the wooden cabinets squeak open downstairs, and then the faucet on the sink turn on and off before Mabel’s footsteps echoed from the steps outside his still open door. Dipper had fallen to the floor in mental weakness after Mabel left the room, his legs criss-crossed under him on the blue-green carpet.

Mabel returned, holding a glass of water cold enough to leave condensation around her fingers. Perfect, he could really use a drink. His mouth was as dry as sandpaper, and he suddenly noticed that it was almost impossible to swallow. He held his hand out, a ‘thank you’ already waiting on his tongue. She stopped a step away from him and looked down at him. Not a word left her lips, her mature figure silently standing over him with the glass held away from her body. “Uh, Mabel?”

And then she dumped the glass over his head.

He sputtered and jumped up from the carpet, wiping the water from his recently cut bangs. “What the _hell,_ Mabel?” She set the empty glass on the nightstand next to Dipper’s bed and made her way over to his closet to fish out another outfit.

“Pull yourself together, Dipper.” She had her back to him, rummaging through drawers and then pushing hanger after hanger out of the way. “If you really like this guy - and don’t deny it, Dip, I know you - and you want this date to go well, you need to get it together.” She turned and threw a white under shirt and a light blue button-down at his chest. “Get changed and meet me in the kitchen.” She took a deep breath and paused in his doorway, “be quick. I have a LOT of work to do with you, Bro-Bro.”

Dipper huffed, staring down at the fabric in his hands, then stripped his other shirt off and replaced it with the ones Mabel had picked out before making his way down to the kitchen.

 

It had taken Mabel ten minutes to style his hair properly — and then proceed to make him sign a contract promising he wouldn’t mess it up. She was serious about her art, after all. Dipper slipped on a simple black coat and grabbed his keys from the jar setting on a table next to the door, gave Mabel one last wave, and popped open the door to his car. Hey saw Mabel standing on the front porch (barefoot. If she’s not careful she’s going to catch a cold in this weather.), beaming a smile at him and holding two thumbs up. The sun was almost completely hidden beyond the horizon already, so Dipper was quick to set Bill’s address into the GPS on his phone and pull out of the driveway. He wasn’t completely sure where he was going, and he definitely didn’t want to be searching for it in the dark.

 

It was 5:58 when he pulled up to the curb outside of (what he hoped was) Bill’s house. He took one deep breath, then turned the car off and stepped up the sidewalk, hesitating only a moment before he knocked. If he had waited any longer he may have just ran right back to his car and driven to some sketchy location to hide until it was safe to go back home without Mabel being suspicious. But, then he would also have to deal with angry/concerned text messages from Bill. Honestly, he would rather take his chances with the date.

The door swung open a couple seconds after Dipper knocked, revealing a very charming Bill Cipher, dressed in what Dipper would NOT describe as “casual” clothing. He was wearing a pair of black jeans that hugged his legs and curved to his body respectively, with a small black belt that was of dire importance with his slim waist. A yellow sweater over a blue collared button-down covered his torso, and his hair was tousled in the same chaotic arrangement it had been on Saturday. Dipper noticed the corners of his eye lids were dusted with a light yellow eye shadow, making his honey eyes pop and his golden freckles glimmer on his cheeks. He looked absolutely stunning, and it took Dipper’s breath away.

“Heya, Pinetree!” He smiled at the smaller male, leaning against the doorframe. Dipper shut his mouth (which had been hanging open slightly since Bill opened the door) and mumbled a small ‘hello’ as the blond stepped out and shut the door behind him, turning to lock it before slipping his keys into his pocket. “So!” He clapped his hands together, “What will we be doing today, my dear Dipper?” A flush colored the brunette’s cheeks, and he stumbled over words to respond with, failing to form a coherent sentence. This was incredibly embarrassing.

A light laughter filled the air around them, and Dipper lifted his head to look at the other. His eyes were alight with joy as he watched him, and it made Dipper’s heart lighter every second they didn’t look away. Dipper cleared his throat.

“I was, uh, I thought maybe we could do dinner and a movie? I-it’s cliche, I know, but there’s not too much to do here and this is my first date in a really long time and I couldn’t think of anything else-” He forced his rambling short, rubbing the back of his neck. His date chuckled.

Bill looped his arm around Dipper’s elbow and started walking towards the other’s car. “Sounds like a plan, Dippin’ Dots!”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. _Two nicknames in thirty seconds_? What, does he have a list or something? “Did you just sit in your room for two and a half days and make a list of nicknames you could call me?”

“What? Come on, Short Stack, is that the kind of person you take me for?”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kid!”

“The list is short though, isn’t it?”

“You underestimate me, Dipping Sauce.”

“You’re out of them, aren’t you?”

Bill pulled the passenger side door shut and looked at Dipper with a defeated expression. “Yes.”

Dipper chuckled, buckling his seat belt, and with a promise that no, Dipper was _not_ going to start driving while Bill wasn’t buckled, the other copied his action. “So,” the brunette started, pulling away from the curb, “where do you want to eat? You said dress casual, so I didn’t think you’d want to go somewhere really fancy, but I mean if you’d rather go somewhere like that it’s totally fine.” His eyes were focused on the road in front of him, anxiety level rising as he thought of sitting in an expensive restaurant dressed like _this_ ; he missed the genuine smile the other flashed quickly in his direction.

“There’s a nice little diner a couple blocks from here. It doesn’t look like much, but they really have the best food around. I’d choose that place over some fancy gourmet cuisine every time.” Dipper smiled, a quiet relieved sigh pushing past his lips, and nodded. “Make a left here. It’s called Suzy’s Diner. Simple, not very creative, but hey, her food is amazing so no judging here.” The blond continued to talk about the diner in a zealous manner, hands gesturing lively with every word. He slid down in his seat and pulled one of his knees up to his chest, resting his head on the top of it. As soon as the car had started moving he had pulled his seat belt over his head, the safety strap only securing the tall man by his waist, but Dipper didn’t say anything. He’d take what he could get.

The car pulled into a small parking lot outside of a beaten-down one story cement building. It was dark now, but the green and blue sign that blinked in the window, spelling out “SUZY’S” one letter at a time, told Dipper that this was indeed their destination. Bill slammed the car door shut and put his hands on his hips, taking a whiff of the air. “Doesn’t it smell like heaven, Pinetree?” Dipper wasn’t sure exactly what heaven smelled like, but he had to admit, it made his mouth water and his stomach rumble.

Gravel crunched under their feet as they walked to the door, coming around the car and meeting in the middle. Dipper shoved his hands in his pockets, but stood close enough to the blond to bump his shoulder every few steps. Bill eagerly returned the action with a small push of his own.

Inside, Bill’s black boots clicked against the green tiled floors. The color alone told Dipper this place hadn’t been renovated for a good thirty years or so, and it made him wonder if “Suzy” even still worked here. Most of the red booths were empty, and there was no one sitting at the bar. It was nice for Dipper. Less people meant less anxiety.

Bill waited just inside the door, Dipper’s arm brushing against his just as a small bell above the door finished its chime. An old, slim woman came up from the back, where Dipper assumed the kitchen to be, wearing a checkered pink apron and a large greeting smile on her face. “Welcome to Su- well, I’ll be.” Her face lit up when she spotted Bill, wiping grease from her hands on a dish towel before making her way over to the two standing men. “Mr. Cipher! I pray you’ve been well. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, I was starting to worry!” Bill had to bend down to give the small woman a quick hug, her graying hair slipping out of her hair net around her wrinkled face. Dipper hoped she’d fix that before she made their food.

“I’ve been fine, I’ve just been busy lately. How have you been? The diner’s packed on the weekend, I’m sure. Have you hired anyone yet or are you still trying to single-hand everything, hmm?” It was an odd interaction, like talking to your grandmother for the first time after you haven’t seen each other for a few months. Hell, for all Dipper knew, this woman WAS his grandmother.

A chuckle passed through her chapped-lipped smile. “I hired someone to help me out. You’re a very persuasive person.” Dipper could attest to that. “She’s a nice hand when I need it. Now, who’s this handsome young man, hmm? I haven’t seen him in my diner before.”

Bill threw his arm around Dipper’s shoulders. “This here is Pi- uh, Dipper. Dipper Pines.” The lady - Suzy, Dipper concluded, with the comment that this was “her diner” - nodded and shook his hand enthusiastically, a bright look of recognition in her eyes.

“Pines? As in, Stan Pines?” Dipper nodded, pulling Bill’s arm up and off of him. He was too focused on Suzy to noticed the brief flash of rejection in the other’s eyes.

Dipper took a step closer to Bill, his shoulder pressed against the other. Suzy seemed nice, but he was uneasy about the way she looked at him when she found out he was related to Stan. “Uh, yeah, Stanley is my uncle. Uh, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck and turned his eyes to the floor, “he was.” Suzy tilted her head to the left, a puzzled expression covering her face. “He uh, recently passed.” A frown shaped Dipper’s lips, and Suzy muttered a quiet ‘oh’ before apologizing. He waved her off. “No, it’s alright. My sister and I moved here a couple of years ago to learn how to manage the shack. We run it now. On the other side of town. That’s…that’s probably why you never see me.”

The elder nodded, a bright (and fake, Dipper noted) smile returning to her face. “Well, enough of this sappy sadness, let’s get you all something to eat! You must be starved!” She began to walk off toward a booth at the other end of the building, menus in hand. Dipper took a breath he hadn’t known he needed and, with a gentle push on the small of his back from his date, he followed. Bill’s hand rested where he had nudged Dipper until they reached the table.

Suzy waited until they sat down to set the menus in front of them. They were worn out pieces of plastic, so old they could have been the original menus from they day the diner opened. “Now, what can I get you boys to drink?” Bill ordered a soda, and Dipper sweet tea, and then Suzy was gone and Dipper and Bill were alone in the corner.

The blond didn’t waste any time relaxing into the seat, his back against the wall and his feet up on the worn out leather. He may have looked classy, but he definitely didn’t act like it. “So, Pinetree, what do you think?” Honey eyes roamed Dipper’s face, searching for an opinion.

“I will refrain from answering that question until I taste the food.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

The lady that set their drinks on the table was not the woman Dipper had met earlier. She was much younger, much more attractive. “Hi, my name is Rachel. Are you guys ready to order, or do you need a couple more minutes?”And Bill was not impressed.

“So you’re the help I’ve heard about.” Dipper kicked him under the table and gave him a stern look that screamed ‘ _be nice_ ’. “Where’s Suzy?”

Bill’s eyes flicked back to the waitress; she had pulled out a small pad of paper and a blue pen. “She’s cooking.” The copper brunette frowned, clicking her pen open and closed in annoyance. “She has other patrons.” The blond scoffed, consequently receiving another kick from Dipper. Rachel shifted her weight over to her right foot, and clicked her pen again. “Do you know what you want or do you need more time?”

Dipper was afraid that if he didn’t say anything, Bill and Rachel would burn each other to ash with their stares. He wasn’t sure what the problem was but he wasn’t going to wait around to find out. He cleared his throat. “Umm, I’ll just have a chicken sandwich and some fries.” Blue ink scratched onto the paper as their waitress wrote down Dipper’s words. Bill ordered a double-stacked cheeseburger and Suzy’s homemade chips, and Dipper was almost positive Rachel had written ‘fries’ instead just to spite him. It was a childish gesture, and a childish revenge to be served to a childish man. It made Dipper laugh.

Rachel repeated their order back to them (purposefully replacing the ‘fries’ she had written with Bill’s order with the original ‘chips’ so as not to raise suspicion of her plan), then, with a harsh glare towards Bill and a soft smile for Dipper, she turned and left them. The tension didn’t leave Bill’s shoulders until she had disappeared into the kitchen.

Dipper stared at him in silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time. It made the blond squirm.

“So…that was weird.” Bill shrugged. “Did you just, like, convince Suzy to hire someone so you could anger and annoy them for your entertainment, ooor…”

“No, no Pinetree, I really did want her to get some help. She overworks herself to the point where watching her could give someone ELSE a heart attack, so I told her she needed someone to take some of the load off.” He paused here, staring at the wall across from their booth, his arm draped over his knee. “I just didn’t think she’d be so attractive.”

Dipper blinked. “You think she’s attractive?”

And with that, a flip was switched in Bill’s mind that sent him into a defensive verbal frenzy, shooting up straight and leaning over the table, shaking his head and holding his hands out in front of him. “N-no! No, no no, Dipper that’s- that’s not what I meant I- shit, Dipper, I swear I didn’t- oh, fuck me.” He buried his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. Dipper chuckled.

“Listen, I still haven't decided if you’re a serial killer trying to lure me away so you can kill me or not so that’s gonna have to wait for another few dates.” Bill parted his fingers to stare through them at Dipper, honey eyes clouded with confusion before he realized what Dipper’s comment was directed at. His tanned skin failed to hide the blush that covered his face. “But seriously, dude, you could be a little nicer to her.” Dipper took a sip of his tea.

The blond sat back in the booth and crossed his arms. “No way, Pinetree.” He chose to give no explanation, and took an angry slurp from his soda. “So, how’s your sister and that pink hair of hers?”

“My sister? Oh,” he set his glass down and rubbed his hands on his knees. “She’s, uh, she’s fine. She woke me up at five in the morning on Sunday because some of the hair dye washed out and she thought she was bleeding to death.” A smile twitched on his lips and he shook his head. “Her language was as colorful as her hair.” The laugh Bill responded with crinkled the corners of his eyes, honey iris’s sparkling. Dipper chose to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the sound.

 

When Rachel brought their food, she didn’t even half-ass a smile. She looked like someone had insulted her favorite outfit, and for a moment Dipper was concerned that she had poisoned Bill’s food - which, he noticed, did actually have chips. Maybe that’s why she seemed so pissed off; if Bill had been coming here as often as he said he did, Dipper was sure Suzy would know his order by heart, and questioned her employee about the change. He stuffed a fry in his mouth to stifle a chuckle. “Is there anything else I can get you?” She directed the question at Dipper, her frustration completely forgotten as a smile turned her bright red lips up.

Dipper shook his head, shoving another fry in his mouth. “No, I think we’re good.”

The male sitting across from him kicked his shin, crunching on one of his chips. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth, Pinetree.” Dipper chuckled at his childish and hypocritical behavior and kicked him back. He hadn’t noticed Rachel still standing next to where he sat.

“Are uh, are you sure? Suzy makes a killer milkshake, you know. What kind do you want? On the house.” Her smile made Dipper uncomfortable, and her surprisingly tall figure towering over his sitting form made him lean into the wall away from her.

He shook his head again, his styled hair bouncing. “Uh, no thanks, I’m good. Really. I uh, I’m lactose-intolerant.” Hazel eyes turned from Rachel to stare down the green-flecked table. He momentarily wondered if the table was made that way or if it just hadn’t been cleaned in a while. “But thanks.”

“Oh, um, okay.” She forced a smile that Dipper didn’t try to return, and completely ignored the sharp glare Bill was directing at the back of her head. She nodded, took a step back, nodded again, and then turned to leave. Dipper’s shoulders relaxed as she walked away and he popped another fry into his mouth.

Bill was staring at him, wide eyed, his hands sitting unmoving on the table. “Pinetree, any of this food could have dairy in it, or - or could have touched something with dairy in it — why didn’t you tell me, and why are you still eating? How are you not _worried_?” Lactose-intolerance wasn’t deadly, right? Dipper could eat a little bit of dairy, it would just make him uncomfortable, right? He wasn’t going to keel over at the restaurant Bill had suggested they go to, he wasn’t going to die because Bill didn’t have the decency to ask about his health, Bill wasn’t going to kill him, was he? Damnit. For once in his life, he wished he hadn’t grown up healthy. He wouldn’t have a clue what to do if the kid got sick, or worse.

The brunette chuckled. “I’m not lactose-intolerant.” Bill blinked. “I lied.” The blond was silent for a long moment.

And then he laughed. He laughed, bright and beautiful, holding his stomach as he leaned over the table. A smile pulled at Dipper’s lips, his face tinted red. He hated how his chest constricted as he listened.

 

The rest of their meal was eaten in relative silence. Dipper had to admit, the food was incredible. He made a mental note to remember where the little diner was located.

He waved Rachel over and asked for the check, receiving a smirk from the blond across from him and a clever “Are you picking up the BILL, Pinetree?”, in which Dipper responded simply with “Nope,” and then walked to the front counter behind Rachel. Bill frowned and reluctantly followed his date. He’d been working on that line the ENTIRE TIME they’d been there, and the kid just _blew him off_. That’s okay, though. Bill always enjoyed a game of hard to get.

He watched Dipper hand their waitress his credit card with a smile; his stomach burned. He wasn’t sure if he had eaten too much, or if he was experiencing some type of emotion he wasn’t familiar with. If he threw up within the next minute, he would have no problem with that.

“Have a nice evening!”

“Thanks, you too!” Dipper waved to the girl behind the counter. They had about forty-five minutes before their movie started, and Dipper liked to be early. Best get moving.

A chill ran down his spine as the cold air rushed to greet him at the door, and he pulled his coat tight around him, stuffing the receipt for their dinner in his pocket. It was dark, but Dipper could still see Bill’s bright yellow hair as he walked next to him. He didn’t know the blond was frowning.

“So, Pinetree,” he started, “what’d you think?” He cast a glance down at the other male, noting and desperately trying to engrave the way his eyes sparkled under the stars into his brain. They were still well on the line between strangers and acquaintances, and he realized sometime between his anger towards Rachel and his fondness for Dipper that this very well could be the last time they do this. He couldn’t shake the fact from his mind — ‘he’s only doing this to make up for Saturday’. He sucked in a needy breath; the cold air irritated his lungs. His chest hurt.

Dipper gave a short nod as he began. “It was good. Incredibly so. I definitely wouldn’t mind coming back here.” In hindsight, maybe he could have chosen another phrase. Maybe something that wasn’t so vague. Something that mentioned how great the food tasted. But how was Dipper supposed to know Bill thought he was flirting with the waitress?

The blond crossed his arms over his chest. The short walk to the car dragged on, like the parking lot had been pulled and stretched and they were suddenly miles away. “I saw our waitress write something on your receipt before she gave it to you.”

Dipper’s hands instinctively moved to pull the paper from his pocket. “Rachel?” He folded the wrinkles out of it, and sure enough, on the back in dark blue ink was a phone number and a short message that read ‘Text me if you get the chance’, scrawled in girlish bubbly letters that vaguely resembled Mabel’s handwriting. “Huh.” He stared at the number, his feet carrying him to stand in front of his blue car. The last time he had gotten a girl’s number was…a very long time ago. Long before his last date, way back in his sophomore year of high school. She had stood him up, though. It was utterly embarrassing. “She gave me her number.”

“Are you going to call her?” The brunette shook his head, crumpling the smooth paper in his hands and shoving it back into his pocket, already forgotten.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

Dipper raised an eyebrow at the taller man standing in front of him. He wore a frown on his face, arms crossed over his chest. He was hiding something. He was defending himself. From what, Dipper didn’t know, but it certainly was entertaining to watch the ‘cool guy’ break down. “She’s not my type. Why do you ask?” The blond shrugged. “Are you jealous?” Honey eyes redirected themselves to the pavement. Dipper smirked. ‘ _Gotcha_.’ “You ARE jealous!” He punched the other on the shoulder at the word ‘are’, a chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re jealous that I got her number and you didn’t!” A laugh escaped him before his voice dropped back down to a normal volume, his hazel eyes pricked with worry. “You didn’t…you didn’t _want_  her number, did you?” First he called her attractive, and now he was jealous that Dipper had gotten her number? He had been worried that Bill was out-of-his-league, that he was just here to embarrass Dipper or take advantage of him, and now it definitely seemed valid. Maybe he should just call it short, tell him he doesn’t feel well and take him home and forget the whole thing.

Okay, maybe the kid wasn’t as smart as Bill thought he was.

“You really think I would waste my time on someone like that, Pinetree?” He scoffed. “Accuse me of being jealous all you want, kid, just do it for the right reasons!” He leaned against the hood of Dipper’s car, his eyes glowing in anger, or affection. Neither of them knew which.

Dipper fished his keys out of his pocket, raising an eyebrow at the taller male. “What are the ‘right reasons’?” He watched Bill’s yellow sweater shrug in response, honey eyes dimming.

The blond shifted, taking extra precautions not to scrape the midnight-blue paint off of Dipper’s car with one of the zippers on his coat. “I dunno, Pinetree. Maybe it’s that you’re on a date with me,” he gestured to himself here, “and yet you can’t keep your eyes off of her.” He pointed back at the diner, honey eyes focused solely on the brunette in front of him. The smaller blinked. He was silent for a moment.

And then he had the audacity to laugh.

Bill narrowed his eyes and tightened his arms around his torso, turning away from the mocking brunette. “You thought I was interested in her?” Bill glanced at the shorter as he spoke, but otherwise gave no reaction. “Bill, I was just being polite - it would be rude to just - I couldn’t just ignore her!” The brunette shook his head, missing the comment Bill muttered under his breath. Something about “bright eyes” and “clawing them out”.

The brunette took a step towards the other, gently pulling the blond’s arms from his chest to rest at his sides and tugging him around to face him. He stepped in between the taller’s feet and set his hands against the soft fabric covering his date’s chest, head tilted up to properly look into honey eyes. They still burned with jealousy, and Dipper found it mildly amusing. His tip-toes raised him up a few inches, but he still had to crane his neck to get to eye level. Their noses were so close they could feel the ghosting of their skin. “My eyes don’t see anything but you.”

Long arms snaked their way around Dipper’s waist and he had to force down a shiver as the was pulled into the body in front of him. A mischievous grin broke out on Bill’s face as he leaned down towards Dipper, his eyes holding a new glint that the shorter male was thrilled to be responsible for. Bill’s response was equally as quiet as Dipper’s had been, an intimacy behind their words that they had never been given the chance to show to anyone else. “Maybe I should drive, then.”

_Did he just get shot down?_

He slapped Bill’s chest and pushed distance between them, stepping back to round the car to the driver’s seat as the other laughed. “I started way up high, way up on a mountain top, and you just pushed me off the edge.” Bill snickered. “Look, look at my body down there, my self esteem, floating in the river. How dare you.”

The blond crossed his arms again, shaking his head. “You walked right into that, kid! Did you expect me to leave a gold coin sitting where it lies?” He pushed himself to steady on both feet, following the other’s actions and reaching for the passenger side door handle. Dipper unlocked it with his key fob, peeking over the top of the car at the other as he spoke.

“Yes! I’m trying my best, here!” The driver’s side door was open, Dipper standing next to it with one hand on its top and the other holding his keys against the roof of the car. “And what’s with the ‘kid’ thing? Aren’t you, like, the same age as me?”

Bill opened his own door, standing similar to the brunette as they conversed. “I call everyone kid! Force of habit, really.” At the questioning look in Dipper’s eyes he added, “I’m twenty-four, by the way.” Dipper nodded thoughtfully, replying with a quick ‘twenty-two’. Bill’s grin grew. “Twenty-two, and still as adorable and awkward as a sixteen year old!”

Dipper’s face turned red as he turned away from him. “Just get in the damn car already.”

The brunette slammed the door shut and Bill chuckled, complying and sliding into his own seat as the engine of the car growled. “Can do, Pinetree.”

 

There were a lot of people at the theater. Dipper could feel his anxiety rising as he pulled into the parking lot. Tuesday was one of the most awkward days for a movie, why in hell were there so many people?

The stressed look on Dipper’s face exposed his discomfort, and when they met in front of the car and began walking towards the brick building, Bill gently slipped his hand into the younger’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He decided a casual conversation might distract his date. “So, what movie do you have planned, Pinetree?”

Dipper shrugged, a crooked smile adorning his lips. “Horror movies are always perfect candidates for mockery.”

The blond smiled, pulling Dipper closer and pressing their shoulders together. “I like your taste, Pinetree!”

Dipper shivered at the change in temperature as he stepped through the door Bill held open for him. Another couple followed them in; he was feeling relatively gracious, so he held the door for them, too. Then a family of four followed. Every time a person walked by him, his bright face fell with impatience. Dipper could swear he saw the slightest twitch at the corner of one of his honey eyes.

He huffed a short puff of laughter as Bill joined him. “You’re such a gentleman,” he mocked. The blond rolled his eyes and passed the younger with a ‘tch’, crossing his arms while he waited impatiently in the short line up to the counter. Dipper stood behind him, tip-toeing to reach the other man’s height, and draped his arms over his shoulders, his cheek pressed against soft yellow hair just behind his ear. “It’s impolite to ignore your date.” He felt the other shudder, and wrapped his arms tighter around his chest. “Especially when he’s treating you.” The brunette saw the corner of his lips turn up in a smirk before he turned around in his arms, resting his hands over the smaller’s slim waist.

“How rude of you to tease me so, Dipper.” Dipper tried to ignore the fluttering of his heart at the sound of his name. The blond leaned his face down closer to his date’s. “Are you trying to provoke me?” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, his words heavy in seduction. It wasn’t his intention - he had planned to be gentle and _not_ drop sexual hints on the first date in fear of scaring Dipper away - but what was done was done and he didn’t regret it.

The man in his arms averted his gaze, hazel eyes flitting around the other people standing in the lobby before returning to Bill’s face, biting his bottom lip. _God_ , why did he have to be so _fucking attractive_? He wanted to rip him apart and cuddle him to death at the same time, and it was conflicting. He hated the way the kid made him feel, the way his chest hurt like he’d been shot every time their eyes met, but he would be willing to brave all the pain in the world if it meant Dipper would solely belong to him. He wasn’t possessive, but this damn kid- he wanted him all to himself. His eyes kept finding their way down to his pale lips, picked and bitten as an anxious habit, and he wondered just how nice it would feel to kiss him, how content he would feel to hold him properly. He wondered how wondrous his nails would feel scratching his bare back, how beautiful his moans and pleas would sound, how stunning he would look under him. _Oh!_ how he would LOVE to just fuck the man senseless and caress and kiss every inch of his body-

“Hey, dudes, no PDA!” One of the theater employees who happened to be sweeping nothing off of the floor a few feet away from the couple yelled, pointing the tip of his broom in their direction. Bill let out an animalistic growl, hugging his date tight against his chest as he glared at the black-haired male. Dipper chuckled, untangling himself from Bill’s prison and patting him on the shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before moving to the counter. His honey eyes immediately lost their lustful glint, and he quickly trailed behind the brunette like a child afraid of getting lost.

Two tickets, a popcorn and twizzlers they probably wouldn’t eat, and a couple of sodas bought, and they were comfortably seated in one of the back rows of the theater, off on the right side wing. People rarely chose to sit there, making it Dipper’s ideal spot. They played a brief game of 20 Questions while they waited for the movie to begin, mostly consisting of background information like _'_ _where did you grow up?'_  or ‘ _how was your school life_?’, and when the lights dimmed, their phones were powered off (after Dipper sent a quick update text to Mabel) and they eagerly delved into the movie.

They made trivial remarks to each other during the first twenty minutes, leaning over the arm of the chair to whisper into the other’s ear, mostly dissing the character’s cliché nature and overused plot problem she was thrown into by her “best friend”. Dipper’s commentary died down around the half-an-hour mark, his hazel eyes unblinking at the screen. He was oblivious to the way the blond male sitting next to him stared at him in wonder.

From his angle, the light of the movie flicked shadows over the smaller boy’s features. It sharpened his cheekbones and his chin and nose, and for a moment he was convinced that even a light touch against his skin would draw blood. Every happening event on screen was predictable, but the kid was still captivated with each change of scene. Honey eyes trailed over Dipper, mesmerized from the cleanly cut chestnut hair atop his head to the pale skin of his face, his thin frame tensed from the suspense of the movie Bill was paying no mind to. The younger man jumped with the rest of the audience as the orchestra kicked in but quickly relaxed back into his seat, his hand resting against the arm in between the couple’s seats, and Bill was instantly drawn to it.

Hesitantly, he lifted the hand into his own, pulling it farther onto his side of their seats and gently turned it palm-up. Dipper glanced at him, ultimately ignored the gesture, returning his attention to the murderous scene on screen. The blond stiffened when Dipper’s head leaned onto his shoulder, but relaxed when his mind comprehended that the kid was moving closer, not trying to scramble away. He released a soft sigh, cupping the back of Dipper’s hand with one of his and using the free one to trace lines on his palm, up and down each of his fingers and circling designs onto the sensitive skin at the base of his wrist.

The soothing gesture was enough to make Dipper’s eyes fall shut, the corners of his mouth turned up in satisfaction. Bill flashed a genuine smile at his relaxed form. He was absolutely _adorable_. His long eyelashes swept over the purpled skin under his eyes, his cheek squished up against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to his soft brown curls, rubbing his thumb over the center of his hand once more before entwining his fingers with Dipper’s cold, bony ones.

Bill chuckled lightly to himself, turning his eyes from the boy to the screen in front of them. Dipper had chosen one of the most overdone, cliche dates in the book. It was relatively short, conversation-wise, but he had experienced more emotion in the past three hours than he would usually get in a year. He loved every second of it, and it made his chest tight to think that in a couple of hours he would be alone in his house, replaying the events in his head. He would engrain these memories into his brain. Even if they decided not to see each other again, he made himself swear he would never forget this. Dipper was stimulating, witty, sometimes a bit shy. He was nothing like Bill, nowhere even CLOSE to perfect, but somehow he had caught his eye and the blond couldn’t see anything except him.

Maybe it was a good thing Dipper was driving.

 

The brakes on Dipper’s car squeaked as he rolled up to Bill’s small house. The man in the passenger seat unbuckled his seat belt, a warm smile shaping his lips. He watched the driver with fondness in his eyes. This kid was making him soft; he made a mental note to burn last weekend’s newspaper and maybe break of couple of glass mugs later to make up for his newfound weakness.

Dipper put the car in park, and turned to face the other in his seat, rain lightly pattering on the on the roof of the car and the windshield wipers pushing the water off the glass the only sounds for a long moment. Dipper swallowed the nerves slithering around in his stomach. “I uh…” he worried his hands in his lap and cleared his throat, “I hope this makes up for not paying you. You know, for Saturday. For, uh, for the haircut.” Dipper mentally slapped himself. What was his problem?

The blond chuckled. “It most certainly does, Pinetree. I had a wonderful time.” He grinned. Dipper returned it.

They sat in silence again, listening to the raindrops accelerating, pounding the metal of the car now. Dipper turned and leaned over the console, reaching into the floorboards of the back seat to retrieve a simple black umbrella. “Um, maybe I should walk you to your door? So you don’t get soaked out in the rain.”

Bill waved his hand. “It’s not that far, Pinetree.” He watched as Dipper’s face fell. His heart constricted; he worked quickly to fix it. “But, if you insist, I would be delighted.” Dipper’s face was flushed with embarrassment of being rejected at first, but he nodded and unbuckled his seat belt, pushing the door of the car open and flipping the umbrella out.

Dipper’s date sat patiently in his seat as the other rounded the front of the car, his shadow blocking out the headlights for a few moments before he reached for the handle on Bill’s door. It wouldn’t open. He knocked on the window and pointed down at the handle, waiting as Bill searched the door for the unlock button in the dark car. The lock clicked, and Dipper proceeded to open the door. He held his pale hand out for Bill’s golden tanned one and helped him stand before sealing the leather interior safely from the rain. They each ducked their heads under the umbrella, Bill’s fingers laced tightly with the younger gentleman’s free hand as they made their way up the concrete sidewalk to the front porch.

Bill lived alone on the outskirts of town, in a little gray house that looked just big enough for two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a small living room. It was tiny, but it looked incredibly well-taken care of and expensive, and it matched Bill’s personality more than Bill himself.

They stood on the wooden boards of the porch, Dipper letting the tip of the umbrella fall to the floor as Bill fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He offered Dipper some tea or hot chocolate, their breath puffing from their mouths in the cold air. Dipper’s hand was freezing from where Bill’s had been holding it before he let it go, and he missed it’s warmth, but he had to decline. He had promised Mabel he would be back by ten thirty, and it was running close to eleven already. Bill nodded, eyes clouded with affection as he watched the shorter male in front of him.

“I had fun tonight, Pinetree. Thank you.” Dipper’s face went red. He only managed a nod in response as the other took a step toward him. Then another. Then another, until Dipper’s head had to tilt up to keep his gaze. “I hope we can do it again sometime.” Another nod. Dipper’s arms unconsciously came up to rest on Bill’s chest, cold hands burying themselves in his thick coat. Bill wrapped his arms around Dipper’s waist and involuntarily pulled him closer.

Dipper’s eyes roamed the other’s face. “Yeah, me too.” He didn’t know when it happened, but their faces were so close now that he could feel Bill’s breath on his cheeks. Dipper stepped closer to the other’s warmth, his heart thudding in his chest so hard he was sure Bill could hear it. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning in closer to the taller man who, in turn, leaned down to meet Dipper, honey eyes closed in bliss. Their lips met softly, carefully, as if both of them were afraid they were going to wake up from a dream, longing to hold each other in their arms as they lay in their own beds in separate houses on opposite sides of town.

Dipper’s lips melded perfectly with Bill’s. He locked his arms around Bill’s neck, mouth moving against the other’s with more passion than he’d ever held for anyone. The cold melted away with the rest of the world, both of them lost in a sea of desire.

He couldn’t believe he was kissing someone so beautiful.

Bill’s hands tightened on Dipper’s hips, sliding to the small of his back to push him closer. Dipper’s lips were chapped and rough against his own smooth ones, a wonderful sensation he hoped he would get to feel again. He matched Dipper’s passion, the kiss slow and gentle. The brunette ran his fingers through blond hair, Bill’s heart stuttering and skipping in uneven palpitations.

He couldn’t believe he was kissing someone so wonderful.

The kiss didn’t last more than ten seconds, but when they pulled away their faces were flushed and they were greedily inhaling the cold air. Bill stepped back, away from Dipper, and set his hand on the white front door of his house. Dipper bent to pick up the umbrella, which he had dropped the moment Bill was close enough for him to touch, and set it over his shoulder.

Bill watched the other give him a smile before turning towards the steps. “Dipper,” the brunette turned back to him, “be careful on your way home, okay? Watch for ice.” He nodded. “And, uh, text me when you get there?” It was supposed to be a demand, not a suggestion, but he was relieved when the other nodded again and said ‘okay’. He muttered a quiet goodbye that the other returned, then stepped off the porch and walked back to his car. Dipper put the umbrella in the back seat, gave Bill one last wave, then shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. Bill didn’t shut the door until Dipper was out of sight, his eyes half-lidded with affection and a euphoric smile on his lips. The lips that Dipper Pines had just kissed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Look at that, part two is FINALLY HERE! This took THREE WEEKS to write. It was such a pain, and I can't say I'm very happy with it (I wish I knew how to MAKE IT SHORTER) - I like it even less now that I've proofread it - but it's done and now I can work on other things. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated, and constructive criticism is encouraged! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Edit: Revised on 2/21/17


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